


Big Guns

by doppeldonger



Series: Ships from the Borderlands [10]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Borderlands the pre-sequel, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 21:39:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10999527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doppeldonger/pseuds/doppeldonger
Summary: Vaughn and Timothy hit the road. Naturally, there's bound to be romance and explosions.





	Big Guns

**Author's Note:**

> For hyperionissued on tumblr!

Children of Helios are a strange bunch. Throughout the years after the ever-seeing eye passing as a satellite crashed on Pandora, the company people slowly learned to adjust to the wilderness that the planet wore like an expensive coat. With every peril she threw at them, they shed their fancy clothes along with their corporate masks, adopting attires more fitting to the heartlessly harsh climate. 

Despite the unexpected reconstruction, Children of Helios kept that condescending side within themselves, strutting on the campsite and through the various regions like they owned the damn planet itself.

Well, you could say that at some point they **did** own the planet; but the gloriously colonial days of Hyperion are long gone, crumbled down to dust and memories along with Helios. Nevertheless, they remain faithfully haughty- even when they are afraid.

Timothy does not like to walk among them, the people who were practically his colleagues back when they all were slaves of the same company. They bring out too many ugly memories, a luxury he can't be arsed to care about. He hides his features behind layers of clothing and masks, long past the point of cursing his body; but they always know.

Children of Helios are unstable at points, so it is no surprise that when they look at Timothy, their collective gaze is tainted with awe, disgust and fear alike. They hate Jack, hating how they were so fascinated by and terrified of the man. But now he is but a fallen titan beaten by their progeny, so they project their emotions on the unfortunate knock-off.

Vaughn is different, though. The short, nerdy man who became the leader of the small bunch with wits and muscles alike, the man who could silence the Children with just a descent of his brow, the man who has formed steady relationships with the locals Jack deemed mindless bandits, the man who loves playing Bunkers & Badasses whenever Rhys drops by in his fancy CEO clothes and important higher ups trailing behind him.

From the moment they met, Vaughn never insulted him or outright tried to kill him, which Timothy counts as success on its own. It's a blessing for someone like the ex-doppelgänger who worked for someone as trigger-happy and abusive as Jack; who later on ran from the same man and hid in fear for his life, only to be thrown into the pit called Pandora which was full of murderous people after his head. 

Vaughn was like a touch of fresh breeze after a particularly hot day, a drop of clear water on perched lips. With his silly laugh and easily excitable nature, with his chestnut locks and thick beard... gosh, Timothy wanted to adorn it with colorful flowers the moment they met.

"What are you thinking about?" The gentle and curious voice brings Timothy back to the present day, where he rides shotgun in a bandit technical, watching the dull desert scenery flow past. "Is it something bothersome? Cause I can see that crease between your brows and that's never a good sign." Timothy simply sighs in return, not bothering to turn to the driver and enjoying the sun that's slowly rising from the east instead. "Come oooooonnnn Tiiimmmmm." Vaughn practically whines, making puppy eyes at his partner.

"You." Timothy resigns with a blush barely visible on his cheeks in the dark violet light of the awakening day. "Eyes on the road, gorgeous." he adds before Vaughn can give him a reply, but he doesn't miss the way the shorter man's eyes sparkle like bright stars. 

Vaughn lets out a shaky breath, gripping the steering wheel and smiling like a giddy child. Timothy isn't exactly an amiable man, and definitely not someone who'd throw affectionate words around. He can feel his face burn, and it's not because of the heat the dawn brings along with her rosy fingers. "Okay, mind telling me how long we have until the next gas station then, babe?"

Timothy chuckles at the affectionate comeback and takes out his ECHO, checking the map. Vaughn sneaks a brief glance, admiring how the blue light accentuates Timothy's features in the dimness before returning his eyes to the narrow asphalt road that seemingly goes on and on for miles. It's so weird, how Timothy is so like, yet unlike Jack. 

He has scars, and stories to go with each and every one of them. He has freckles dusting his cheeks and shoulders, becoming prominent whenever he stays in the sun for too long. His hair has become more and more ginger in the passing years, peppered with gray streaks here and there; he wears it long, usually in a ponytail or a braid, jokingly comparing the length to Vaughn's every once in a while. He doesn't swagger and prowl like Jack, like a dangerous animal; he carries himself like a strong survivor, still elegant even when he runs and fights. 

And his smile, gosh... Vaughn can't help the dumb smile visiting his own lips, Timothy has such a beautiful, unique smile that has nothing to do with the terrifying smirks Jack throws around in every remaining camera feed and poster. In all honesty, Vaughn doesn't understand how people can't see Timothy for who he is.

"We're close." the man of his life graces him with a reply, "I'd say ten minutes, the most."

"Good." Vaughn says happily, "Cause I really need to pee."

Timothy should be annoyed, disgusted even, at the comment that changes the romantic mood going on; but they're at that point in their relationship where it's not just about batting eyelashes or giving each other quick handjobs. Timothy laughs, not at all bothered.

* * *

It always comes as a surprise when they come across a fully working gas station in these parts, so Vaughn runs off happily to relieve his bladder as Timothy gets on with filling the bandit technical’s almost-empty tank. The ex-doppelgänger whistles a happy tune as he speculates what gasoline is made of on Pandora- skag fossils? Rakks? He can’t help the amused chuckle escaping his chapped lips when he thinks of what wild skags’ ancestors must have looked like.

Then something grabs him from behind.

Timothy Lawrence is a brave man hardened by the wilderness that constitutes this planet, so he’ll deny the squeak he just let out; he must be very tired, because whoever his attacker is would have bitten the dust by now if he were in top shape.

Thankfully, it’s just Vaughn.

Timothy grumbles as Vaughn buries his face between his clavicles and laughs, “Don’t scare a man like that, hon, god damn…”

“Scare you?” Vaughn replies, amused voice muffled by Timothy’s coat, “That’s impossible.”

“Yeah, right. Now move, I gotta put the pump back and pay.”

“Always so noble.” The Bandit King doesn’t even budge and sighs instead, “God, can’t we just stay? Like…  like if time stopped just now?”

“You mean in the middle of the desert at a dingy gas station with rakks and skags around? Yeah, Vaughn, sure! That sounds totally awesome.” Vaughn pinches Timothy’s sides, making the man flinch with an involuntary giggle, “Stop making fun of my romantic intentions or I’ll tickle you to death, you meanie.”

* * *

The inside of the small, one-story building housing the store is blissfully cool- a miracle to be found in such a deserted area. Vaughn looks around in search for something to sate their hunger and thirst while Timothy counts their money; the person in charge of the cash register eyes them a little too carefully. Watching the person make a move for something behind the counter behind his aviators, Timothy slowly paces towards the back of the store where Vaughn is currently trying to pick some chips; he nudges the shorter man, using the protection of the high selves to their advantage.

 _Danger?_ Vaughn asks silently. Timothy nods towards the person and points at his own gun, _or ECHO_ , he mouths calmly. Vaughn gives him a thumbs up and reaches for his gun, his stash of food and drinks long forgotten.

* * *

Ten minutes later the heat of the rising sun finds them on the road, speeding away from a grand explosion blooming on the spot where the gas station used to be; they don’t even look back, being the badasses they are.

Vaughn stretches a leg over the door where he rides shotgun, munching on stolen chips, “They probably ECHOed people.” He offers his food to Timothy, “Our heads are still too valuable around some parts of Pandora, I guess.” The taller man grins at him through a mouth full of nacho flavored chips, “It’s not like we haven’t dealt with bounty hunters before, hon.” He changes gears and speeds the technical up, “Plus, we’re close to the nearest Atlas facility, we can hold them off until we arrive… unless you have to pee, **again**.”

Vaughn throws a chip at him and misses his face, so he leans in and grabs the man’s scarred cheeks with both hands and places a wet, harsh kiss on Timothy’s lips, taking his breath away. He settles back in his seat, throwing a sideway glance at his partner, clearly amused, "Eyes on the road, gorgeous."

**Author's Note:**

> I'd kill for some nacho chips right now.


End file.
